


A Life in Your Shape

by moreofarelapse



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 15:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19359616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moreofarelapse/pseuds/moreofarelapse
Summary: Every day brought them further from home.Leo was almost comforted by the idea. The homesickness has faded to another background ache, and if she tried hard enough, she could tell herself that she didn’t miss sunlight or chicken rice porridge or late mornings and hot cocoa.There were things about this place, though. It felt familiar, in the sense that she knew it, or at the very least, it recognized her. The stars were too bright.Or, snippets of a story I'll probably write, eventually.





	A Life in Your Shape

Every day brought them further from home.

Leo was almost comforted by the idea. The homesickness has faded to another background ache, and if she tried hard enough, she could tell herself that she didn’t miss sunlight or chicken rice porridge or late mornings and hot cocoa. 

There were things about this place, though. It felt familiar, in the sense that she knew it, or at the very least, it recognized her. The stars were too bright.

Across the fire, Alec play his guitar. He focused with reverie, playing a tune that shouldn't have been audible over the raucous conversation, but decided to be anyway. Leo wasn’t really watching him, per se, she was watching everyone. It was just harder to pull her eyes from him specifically. And, more and more, she felt no good reason to do so. 

Someone laughed, like the bang of a firework, the fuse of which was lit long ago. Alec looked up at them. His eyes wrinkled in the corner, and in a few seconds, he was laughing too. Leo couldn’t see why. Maybe it was a type of chaos; experiencing life unapologetically for the first time, still being willing to give it up in a heartbeat. Maybe it was the dread of marching to meet death with the only people you live for.

Likely, it was both: Anarchy, desperation, and youth. Familiarity.

It was far too late in the night for that train of thought. Alec Balthazar was laughing, whole-heartedly, face aglow and eyes reminiscent of too-bright stars. Leo blinked for a long moment, and found that, without her knowing, she had memorized the look of it. Freckles and firelight and laughter and stardust. It terrified her.  
Shaking her head, she looked up. He was staring back at her, grinning. 

Shit. 

Under the pretense of scrutiny, she held his gaze and tried not to look like a deer caught in the headlights. With a joking look in his eyes, he heaved a theatrical sigh and shook his head, then returned his attention to the guitar. His fingers seemed to wander for a second, before committing to melody that conveyed—well, something. 

_Be still my indelible friend, you are unbreaking._

She watched him play for a moment, a strange expression painted across her face. Anyone watching wouldn’t note anything off about the way she looked at him. Leo did spend an uncanny amount of time observing people; it was a talent, in fact, simultaneously making people uncomfortable with their image and threatened by her own enigmatic guise. 

From somewhere in the camp, her name was called. It probably wasn’t wise to make the trek on her own, but she didn’t feel vulnerable. She swung her legs over the fallen log and walked away. The guitar stopped playing, and she knew she was being watched. In response, she shoved her hands into her pockets and tried not to think of it as a retreat. 

He was one of the last people to leave the campfire. Nico was already asleep in their tent when he came back, and Leo was pretending to be.


End file.
